Zion: Light of the New Moon, Doen Milestone 1a
Zion - Light of the New Moon Milestone One
Doen Sun Burned, Part 1
Despite the sheer hopelessness of formulating a defense against the Sun Cultists, the Contributing Readers of the Doen Caravan have elected unanimously to attempt to escape the cage and destroy the caravan's attackers.
Tymbald's heart beat rapidly against his ribcage as the Sun Cultists tied him firmly to a tree. He was a temple page... not a warrior... not a guard... not even an acolyte. There was nothing in his upbringing that gave him any indication as to how to beg for his life. He had heard something about a sacrifice, and all the young collie knew was that he didn't want to die. Tied up with a bloodied nose, Tymbald did the only thing he could do: he cried.
"Psst... hey..." the attention-grabbing call quieted the young dog long enough for him to train his ears towards the originating source; not far to Tymbald's right, a stake, previously used to hitch a pack steed was instead being used to secure a young priest. Tymbald knew the priest... he was a colt who only recently became an acolyte.
"Darben?" the collie sniffed, trying to rub at his damp cheeks with a shoulder. Compared to Tymbald, Darben was in a much less comfortable situation; the colt was seated on the ground with his hands stretched out over his ankles, both tied together around the wooden stake, forcing the young horse to remain in a hunched-over, seated position.
"I'm here." the colt confirmed, attempting to crane his head to look back toward the dog, but failing, "I can't see anything, Tym... is that you?"
"Yea..." the collie gave his head a little nod, not that the young horse was able to see it, "it's me."
"Can you tell what they're doing?" the young priest asked, "Can you see anyone else?"
The dog slowly raised his head, gazing around at the circled wagons. The camp had been quiet as few as two hours prior; it had felt safe and comforting; it had been many things, but was none of them any longer. Tymbald watched as Sun Cultists moved freely around the campfire, silhouettes looming ominously behind them. Many of the cultists carried daggers, wavy blades dripping with what had to have been blood. "They said they're going to sacrifice us to Tah'Alia..." the pup had to force the words out his constricted throat.
"No..." the colt breathed in disbelief, "They can't!" he hissed, "We'll fight them... every last one of us. We aren't going to let them do something like that. The guards--"
"The guards are already dead, Darben." Tymbald lowered his head, feeling the helplessness settle back over him like a heavy weight, weighing him down with its promise of an unpleasant, unholy death.
"We have to fight, Tym... don't give up." the colt began struggling further.
"We can't escape." the collie answered, "They have weapons and we don't... we won't get far." he let out a sigh as a tear traced through the fur of his muzzle, slowly creating a trail down toward his nose.
"We can still fight." the colt noted with conviction, "If we resist then they'll kill us, but that will be in combat..."
"I don't wanna die, Darben..." Tymbald whimpered softly.
"Death isn't the end, Tym." the young priest countered, "If we're sacrificed then our immortal souls are dragged to the eternal flame... but they can't sacrifice us if they kill us in combat." Darben announced, grunting as he tried in vain to pull at the stake securing him in place without any solid leverage.
"But... I don't wanna die..." the collie repeated, even quieter.
"We don't get to choose our time, Tym... but we can choose how." the colt paused, taking a breath as he tried to change his position, "You're faithful to Tah'Aveen, right?" he asked, pulling at one of his legs to try to brace his hoof against the wooden stake.
"Yea..." the young dog answered, glancing to the fellow captive, watching as Darben stretched forward and began yanking at the curved metal attached to the bottom of his hoof.
"Then they can kill your body, but all that will do is set you..." Darben gave one more strong yank, "free." he grunted, clenching his teeth as he pulled the horseshoe free; Tymbald smelled blood.
"What are you doing?" the collie asked, feeling a shiver run up his spine as he heard a blood-curdling scream from one of the nearby carriages. The young dog's fur rose up as the scream repeated itself, and trailed off into gurgling silence.
"Getting us... out... of here." the colt responded in grunts between straining against his bonds and forcing the horseshoe between the ropes keeping him tied to the stake. Gritting his teeth, Darben began twisting the hunk of metal clockwise, holding it in position as he changed his grip, and continued twisting. Several pops and snaps later, Tymbald's fur was completely up, cringing at the sounds until, suddenly, the young horse was free. The collie realized then that the popping sound was the rope straining until the stake finally gave up and splintered.
"Oh Goddess, Darben... I can't... we can't do this..." the page announced, shaking all over.
The colt stood, rubbed his wrists, and moved quickly to free the collie, "We can." Darben announced, holding up the horse shoe for the pup to see. Tymbald didn't miss the symbol of the Pregnant Moon imprinted into the metal, "She's with us, Tym." The young horse rested a hand gently on the page's arm, and Tymbald felt the presence of Tah'Aveen, her power flowing through the acolyte and into him, letting him know that she would shepherd him onward. It made all the difference.
The collie turned and knelt down, picking up a thick, arm-length branch, "We need to see if we can save anyone else." Darben smiled at the page's change of heart, and smiled wider when the page handed him one as well.
The two youngsters snuck around the edge of the camp, keeping to the shadows. Tymbald felt the comforting veil of Tah'Aveen flow around him, Darben using her protection to shadow them from the cultists. The collie knew it was a simple prayer, usually reserved for lovers seeking a star crossed rendezvous; Tymbalt found it ironic to think that such a clandestine power would finally have an applicable use for prolonging life and not just celebrating it.
"Darben..." the collie spoke quietly, touching the horse on the shoulder. When the acolyte turned back to regard him, Tymbald motioned to a section of the camp where three carriages formed a "U"; the page pointed to three Sun Cultists who were seated at a merchant wagon, casually relaxing at a folding table on folding stools being served by a ferret. The young collie recognized the wagon and the merchant right away, "That's Dillan Flynn." he whispered.
"What is he doing?" the colt asked, ears back.
"It looks like he's serving them drinks." Tymbald answered, "Did they enslave him or something?"
"If he's a slave then where are his shackles?" Darben asked, eyes narrowing, "And he's laughing a little too much for that."
"Do..." the page began, pausing at the implication, "Do you think he was a Sun Cult spy?"
"I don't know." Darben shook his head, "Men like that can be anything... but if he IS working with them then he will pay for what they--" and the discussion ended immediately as all three of the cultists fell nearly in unison off of their seats. The colt didn't start talking again until the two observers watched Dillan dragging the unmoving cultists out of view, "I don't think he's with them."
Tymbald's fur went up when the ferret emerged from his wagon and stared right at the two of them, "Do you... think he sees us?"
The ferret glanced around then looked back at them, and motioned them near. "I would say 'yes'." the young colt answered.
"What do we do?" the collie asked.
"Go to him... and be ready to beat him to death if he turns out to be a double-crossing double-crossing double-crosser." Darben answered. Were the situation different, Tybald probably would have laughed at the description of the ferret, but he didn't have a laugh in him.
"Inside. Now." the merchant noted, motioning to his wagon.
"Wait... why should we--" Darben began, but the ferret cut the argument short.
"Listen..." the ferret interrupted, "there will be more cultists here any minute... either you can get inside, or you can get sacrificed... I don't have time to save you AND explain everything."
The colt opened his muzzle to speak again, but closed it. Exchanging glances, the two teens quickly passed through the open door; both came to a halt when they saw the spacious interior of the carriage, far larger than the outside hinted at. They didn't pause at the expansive size of the inside, however-- they paused because the ample space was well on its way to being filled with unmoving cultists. Dillan closed the door behind them.
"Are they dead?" Tymbald squeaked.
Darben knelt down and rested a hand against the neck of an unmoving human. The colt was quiet for several seconds, then slowly shook his head, "No... alive, but paralyzed, or unconscious, or asleep or something."
The collie jumped at the sound of movement outside the carriage. The acolyte turned at that, but paused once Tymbald held a finger up to his muzzle, ears swiveled in the direction of the closed door. They both listened to the sound of a muted conversation.
"Two of them, sir." the ferret spoke outside the carriage, "I convinced them to go into inside."
"In there?" came the accented response; the voice could only have belonged to a Wild Lands Sun Cultist.
"He betrayed us." the horse scowled, ears going backward as he gripped his tree branch, ready to put it to use, "Are you ready?" he asked, glancing back at Tymbald.
The collie nodded, "I'm ready." and he widened his stance, readying his club.
"Kill the ferret first..." Darben announced, "At least we'll avenge the caravan in that."
The door opened, and both of them pulled back, ready to attack... only to see a cultist come stumbling in, a dagger buried in his back. Dillan Flynn quickly hopped in after the slumping body, pulling the door closed behind him. The ferret looked at the two of them, smiling casually, "He's quiet dead." he noted with an incredible amount of innocence, as if he had nothing to do with it, "There's no use clubbing him, I assure you."
"We..." Tymbald paused, glancing at Darben before looking back at the merchant, "...thought youhad betrayed the caravan..."
The ferret chuckled in response, "So did they, if you can't tell." he retrieved his dagger, "No... I'm many things, but I'm no heathen." he chuckled, wiping his blade off on the dead man's robe, "As you can see, I've been very busy to the contrary." he motioned around his wagon at the various unmoving cultists.
"Won't they start missing people?" Darben asked.
"They will, yes." the merchant confirmed, "but by then I hope to have the camp clear enough to rescue Brother Zachary."
"He's still alive?" Darben asked, ears going up, "Oh thank the Goddess!"
"For now, yes... but not for much longer... so don't start celebrating yet." Dillan announced, "I have to get to the cage they're holding him in, along with a few others... and see if I can get them out."
Tymbald felt his pulse begin to quicken as the first ray of hope started to shine through the darkness, "What can we do to help?"
"I need a distraction." the ferret noted but, not two seconds later, the sound of splintering wood crashing somewhere outside the wagon ended the conversation, "Never mind... I think that's covered." Dillan announced, easing the door open so he could peek out, "oh my...."
The horse and the collie quickly moved to peek through the crack, Tymbald's head below Dillan's and Darben's above. The page gasped when he saw the famed Narissa Hearthsinger laying on the ground amidst a collection of broken wood. She wasn't moving, blood pooling around her. The sound of combat quickly punctuated the bloody scene.
"That, my boys, is the real traitor." Dillan announced, pulling his head back from the doorway, "She was planted by the cultists to keep track of our position and, when the time came, she betrayed us, captured Lord Rust, and sold us to the cultists."
"No..." Darben breathed, shaking his head. Tymbald had spent enough time around the colt to know that he'd always had a bit of a crush on the famous tigress.
"Sadly, yes." Dillan acknowledged, sifting through a drawer next to him, "Now, this may be the distraction we need..." his paw came out of the drawer with a collection of small metal wires, "I'm going to see what I can do about opening that cage..." and he slid the lock picks into his vest pocket.
"What about us?" Tymbald asked.
"She wouldn't do that... not Hearthsinger..." Darben announced to nobody in particular.
"First, get him moving." the ferret noted, motioning to the still stunned colt, "And next, see if you can find anyone else who hasn't been sacrificed yet."
"Are we going to mount a counter-attack?" the young horse suddenly asked, looking right at the merchant.
"There are a LOT of cultists." Dillan answered, peeking out through the crack in the door, "Right now, I'm a little more interested in living and--" he paused, "...damn it... there goes Rust..."
"Lord Rust?" Tymbald asked, "What do you mean there he--" the collie leaned over to peek out the door, but lost his balance. Tumbling over the ferret, the page fell out of the carriage, knocking the door wide. He landed unceremoniously on the ground in a heap.
Looking up, the pup's eyes widened when he saw a Sun Human standing beside the unmoving echidna. All of the human's attention was focused wholly his way. Tymbald yelped, and scooted back along the ground away from the Cultist, who began walking closer.
Dillan reached down and grabbed hold of the collie by the tunic collar, yanking him up to his feet. Tymbald squirmed, shying away from the merchant once he heard the ferret start talking in the Forbidden Tongue. Dillan held him proudly, displaying him to the cultist like some kind of trophy. The Sun Cultist scowled, and the page felt an unbearably hot heat flash over him for a split second... and he was suddenly separated from Dillan as the ferret was sent flying back into his carriage; Tymbald couldn't get the scent of burning fur out of his nose.
"You have a way with lies, Dillan Flynn... but too many too quickly will still betray you." the cultist announced, and continued toward the wagon, emerald eyes going to Tymbald next.
The collie held his branch at the ready, trying to figure out how to solidify his stance when his legs wouldn't stop shaking. The cultist was smiling, and that scared him more than anything else, "You fear me... don't you?"
"No." Tymbald lied.
"You should." the Sun Human's smile widened, and the collie pup yelped as his club burst into flames. He dropped it immediately, fingers burned as the wood was consumed by the burst of fire before it could hit the ground.
"You're... you're a heathen!" the page accused, "We're Tah'Aveen's faithful! We have nothing to fear from you!" he didn't think his words sounded very convincing.
"Of course you don't." the cultist responded, still walking slowly toward him. Tymbald backed up until his back was against the wagon. He searched around the paneling desperately with his paws, never taking his eyes off of the golden skinned human moving toward him with a slow, deliberate gait, "You do not have to fear me, pup... I admire a courageous heart."
In a blur of motion, Darben launched himself out of the doorway of the wagon, club descending in a wide, arcing, double-handed, overhead bash. The young colt put his entire bodyweight into the swing, coming down hard on the cultist... but bounced off harmlessly when the Sun Human raised his hand and knocked the club aside with his forearm. The acolyte was hurled to the side by the casual gesture, and slammed into the carriage's wheel. Tymbald whimpered, clearly identifying at least one snap amidst the numerous sounds of breaking that was not wood.
"Stay." the Cultist announced, staring right at the collie; the page suddenly realized he was unable to move, stuck in his cowering pose, having to fight just to draw breath. "Good dog." the Sun Human chuckled, moving to where the crumpled form of Darben lay amidst the wreckage of the wheel. With one arm, the cultist picked up the young colt. "Courage is not in short supply here." he announced, looking at the limp horse.
"H-heathen..." Darben rasped.
"It's a title... nothing more." the Sun Human announced, lifting the horse up by his neck until they were eye-to-eye, "You call me a heathen... I call you a heathen. In truth, we are simply two sides of a coin that may never see eye to eye." and, with sudden and unexpected ferocity, the Cultist punched his free fist forward and Darben's body went rigid; the human's hand disappeared into the colt's chest.
"What really matters," the human spoke softly to the wide-eyed horse, "is that the coin is going to land sun-side up." and, with just as much power, the human's hand was yanked free from the acolyte's chest. "A courageous heart." the Sun Human announced, looking to Tymbald, holding a dribbling, still-beating hunk of flesh in his fingers. Darben rasped once, eyes rolling in his head, and the human finally let go, letting the young colt fall to the ground. Darben wheezed, hands going to the gaping hole in his body, whispering wordlessly as blood began to burble up and out of his muzzle.
"Now, my good dog..." the Sun Cultist noted, still-beating heart suddenly bursting into flame in his hand. The human turned to face Tymbald, ash falling out of his grasp, hand completely unharmed by the heat, "...let's see to you." He faced the unmoving collie, the powdered remnants of charcoal falling from his fingers even as the colt twitched off to the side, muzzle working to speak.
Tymbald, still unable to move his body, could do little more than look away from the cultist, eyes going to the prone body of Darben. The horse's fingers twitched around the horse shoe he still held, inscribed symbol of Doen covered in blood. The acolyte's trembling fingers tightened around the hunk of metal for a moment... and then went slack; the horse shoe fell from his hand and landed in the dirt. The inscribed holy symbol glowed a soft silver for a moment... and then went dark. It was subtle, but it drew the Sun Cultist's attention immediately.
"And what was that?" he demanded of the slain horse, "Some last attempt at a prayer? Some final act of a blessing for the afterlife."
"No..." Tymbald responded, reaching for a broken piece of wood from the shattered wheel. The Sun Cultist looked back to him, just in time to have the sharp spoke jabbed into his torso, "...a prayer of dispelling." he answered.
The Sun Cultist's eyes went wide as he paused, looking down at the collie, then to the hunk of wood protruding from his abdomen. His eyes went back to the dog, then the wood once again... and he started laughing. Aghast, Tymbald watched as the Sun Human smoothly withdrew the spike from his abdomen, wound closing up as quickly as the wood was removed. The cultist's blood still dripped from the wood... but only for a moment, as the droplets of red began boiling, setting the tip of the stake aflame.
"In his last breath he freed you from my grasp?" the Sun Cultist inquired, "That did little good." and, without even a pause, the golden skinned human turned the wood around, and jammed it right down into the dog.
Tymbald howled out in pain, crying as the wood pushed into his flesh. He cried out even as his skin crackled and blistered from the supernatural fire burning on the stake. The young page tried struggling, but the Sun Human had surreal strength, keeping him in place with one foot as he pushed the burning wood deeper and deeper into him. "In our last moments, the pain we feel remind us what it is to be alive." the cultist explained, "I will do you that much... your suffering will be so very great... and that will be your friend's reward for undoing my hold on you."
The collie felt the searing pain of the burning wood grow worse, but it was overshadowed by the sudden agony that shot through every vein in his body. "That is your heart." the cultist explained, looking down at the prone dog as he continued sliding the wood in even deeper, "You have ten... maybe fifteen seconds left in this world." the smile slowly bled off of the golden human's face, "Did you have a final prayer as well?"
"No..." Tymbald wheezed, the pain starting to recede as an unearthly numbness began to take hold, stealing the strength from his limbs and the sight from his eyes, but not before he saw a large form rise up behind the Sun Cultist, "His prayer was enough..."
"Breaking your paralysis? It did not good." the Sun Priest noted.
"Not..." Tymbald noted, feeling his muscles start to cramp up as the wood in his chest finished its job, "just... mine..." the words came out with a burble of blood. The young page's vision faded, but not before he saw the iron hammer-fist descend on the hairless head of the gold skinned human.
"Hey... kid... hey..." the voice seemed far off... too far off. "Stay with me here... stay with me" he felt movement, but it was too distant to matter. The blackness was all-encompassing... it was peace... it SHOULD have been peace, but all Tymbald could do was lay there helplessly as he was enshrouded by it. He was dying... he didn't want to die! "Goddess... don't take him..." the voice said; it sounded to Tymbald like a desperate prayer more than anything else... the collie should have felt his heart beating like a hoof-beat, but he didn't feel his heart... he didn't feel anything.
No, Goddesss, please... I'm not ready! he cried in his own head. The blackness was complete, and the voice was getting farther and farther away. Tymbald was unable to figure out when the fear left him; he wasn't able to pinpoint the time when he stopped caring; he didn't know when it was that the pain finally stopped. What remained of the caravan had so much more pain ahead of it... but the young page's suffering had come to an end.
Sightless eyes rimmed with the remnants of helpless tears gazed up at the echidna. Rust hadn't seen the collie in several years, but he knew who he was. The big man reached down and raised up Tymbald's body, hugging him. Lord Rust had been known as Brother Bronderson when the pup had been left with the temple. Closing his own eyes, the echidna shook in rage and grief as he slowly laid Tymbald down and instead rested his hand atop the slain Delani's forehead, shivering as he used a prayer never used by the priests of Doen.
Lord Rust heard the Sun Cultists approach before he saw them, but he wasn't worried. Standing up, the echidna turned to regard them. The tears on his cheeks glowed like rivulets of magma as each and every one of his quills burned red hot, their tips igniting like hundreds of candles. Brimming with indignation, sorrow, and an overriding urge for retribution, the echidna turned to regard them, "His name was Tymbald..." Lord Rust challenged, his voice shaking with pure rage, "he was afraid of the Cult of the Sun..." and his clenched fist burst into flame as he called forth the stolen powers of the slain Delani. A golden sheen slowly flowed across the echidna's body, "...let me show you why."
* * * * *
It's been two weeks, but here it is: the first part of Doen's Milestone!
Remember: readers have until midnight on September 30th to place their vote(s) to save their favorite character(s). Go here for details:
http://www.sofurry.com/page/288668/
Every Contributing Reader in this chapter also has a chance to vote:
1) Exchange 2 Favor to gain 1 Luck. 2) Exchange 2 Luck to gain 1 Favor. 3) No changes, thanks! 4) At this point Zeke, Jasper, and Dillan all have 0 votes. Sacrifice the other two characters to guarantee 's safety.
Here's the clencher: votes must be unanimous. Talk amongst yourselves if you wish-- you may not change your vote after voting.
That's all there is to it! Now sit tight; the Milestone concludes next week!